


Safe Houses

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phil Needs a Hug, clint can learn quick though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6195298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving in with someone you love should be awesome, right? Not irritating, annoying, and the hardest thing ever. Or, Clint and Phil move in together, but it takes a bad mission to show Clint of what that really means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe Houses

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to fill a tumblr prompt for safe house cuddles before extraction, but it got . . . preachy. Oh well, an important lesson, IMO. Thanks for the prompt, anonymous tumblr peep!

_“You’re leaving,” Phil stated, his voice flat. He gripped the back of the dining room chair tightly. He was just home from the office, his suit coat still on, his tie still tight around his throat._

_“I’m just going out for a run,” Clint replied, and it was true. He was going for a run. Again._

_“You ran this morning,” Phil said. “You sparred with Natasha this afternoon. You competed with Sitwell on the free weights and won.”_

_“I always beat Jasper,” Clint said as he tied up his shoelaces._

_“You’re going for another run because I came home early,” Phil replied, ignoring Clint’s deflection._

_Clint stilled for a second, and then finished tying his shoes. He was new to this living with someone you’re sleeping with thing, but admitting that the sight of the Phil had made his nerves sing with annoyance didn’t sound like the best route. “I was getting ready to run before you came home,” he lied. The beer bottle on the coffee table made the lie stand out, but Clint didn’t know what else to say._

_Phil let go of the chair and nodded once before he stalked off to the bedroom they shared. He shut the door too hard to be normal, but just shy of slamming it. Clint appreciated his restraint, even though he probably had every right to slam it. He was right, after all._

_Clint blew out a breath and left their apartment. He said he needed a run, so he’d go for a run._

_Clint came home from his run sweaty and exhausted. He hadn’t gone far, just a quick two-miles, but after his already active day he stumbled straight to the shower and stood there and zoned out for a while. When he finally stepped out and got dressed, it was going on six-thirty and his stomach was rumbling. He called out, “Hey Phil, you want me to do a stir-fry or did you have something else in mind?”_

_There was no answer, and after a quick check of their home office, Clint realized Phil had left._

_He went out to the couch, sank down in the cushions, and dialed Phil’s phone. It went straight to voicemail, which caused anger to flare in Clint’s chest, and he threw his phone onto the coffee table with a clatter after not leaving a message. He got up, got a glass of ice water, and fixed himself a small meal of a sandwich and some fruit. He crashed on the couch and was almost asleep when the front door opened and Phil let himself back in._

_He was dressed in jeans and a grey sweatshirt and he ignored Clint._

_“Hey, Phil,” Clint said, climbing to his feet and carrying his empty plate to the kitchen, but Phil just ignored him and headed straight for the bedroom. Clint frowned and followed him after he deposited his plate in the sink._

_Phil was changing into his pajamas when Clint came in._

_Clint changed into his, and offered a “Phil?” as Phil headed for the bathroom, clearly getting ready for bed._

_“You obviously needed space, so I gave you some,” Phil said without looking at him, and closed the bathroom door behind him._

_Clint just stood next to their bed, not sure how to proceed._

_Yeah, he felt cramped now that he came home from work to someone else there, woke up in the morning to someone else there, and had to continually check with Phil’s plans before making his own. Logically he knew this was what moving in with someone you really, really liked meant, but the reality of it overwhelmed him once they’d had about a week and a half of sex and basking in the chance to be alone together every night after work. It’s not that Clint didn’t want to be here with Phil. He wanted to. He thought living with Phil was a fantastic choice._

_But sometimes, Phil showing up in Clint’s space startled and annoyed him at the same time._

_Phil came back and crawled into bed without a word, so Clint headed to the bathroom and got himself ready, too. When he got into bed, Phil turned away and turned out his lamp with a “Good night, Clint.”_

_Phil had become the center of Clint’s universe, sure, but this relationship stuff was hard as hell, Clint thought to himself, and he turned his own light out and just said, “Good night.”_

_They got called out on a mission the next morning._

_< ><><><><><><><><><> _

“Just a little further, Clint,” Phil said, holding Clint up as they stumbled toward the small cabin on the edge of the icy river in Germany. “Stay upright for me, just a little longer.”

Phil’s voice was as brittle as the ice Clint had fallen through, getting shot off a bridge at the end of a volley between Phil and Clint and the HYDRA agents they’d chased out of the exploding bunker nearby.

Clint held onto Phil’s shoulder with his free arm, his grip tight on Phil’s slick winter jacket. He focused on the texture of the coat, his hand trying to pull warmth from the fabric, from anything. A thought finally made it through Clint’s frozen slush of a brain. “My bow?” he ground out between chattering teeth.

Phil nodded quickly. “I fished it out of the river after I got you. It’s in my backpack, safe.” He stopped walking for a moment to pull Clint up a little. Clint was mostly uncoordinatedly stumbling down the small path next to Phil. Phil’s legs were soaked in icy water, too, but only to about his waist, and he was coordinated enough to guide both of them to the small cabin up ahead.

Phil pulled his hand from Clint’s waist to slide it across the scanner and then he led Clint through the door and into the safe house. The warmth of the place washed across Clint in a wave, and he staggered, pulling Phil down a little before he righted himself. “Sorry,” Clint mumbled, unable to even get his mouth to work right as Phil helped him to the old, ratty couch.

“Clint, wake up. Clint.”

Clint blinked and forced himself to wake up, because Phil was telling him to. He opened his eyes and stared up at Phil, who was leaning over him and unbuckling Clint’s quiver. Clint tried to sit up to help, but it didn’t work. “Can’t really move,” he managed to whisper, and Phil nodded.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he said, and he smiled that ‘we’re-kind-of-fucked-but-I’ll-handle-it’ smile that usually warmed Clint to his toes.

Not today. “I’m really, really cold,” he said, and Phil nodded.

“I know. We’re getting you out of these clothes and into the tub if you’ll stay awake for me.”

His voice was gentle, and he pulled the Kevlar vest and Clint’s wet shirt off as easy as he could. He sucked in a sharp breath, though, when he got everything off and looked at Clint’s body. “Fuck.”

Clint must’ve drifted off again, though, and it drew his attention back. “What? You okay?”

Phil didn’t answer, but he bit his lip, looked around, and then pulled Clint up without warning. Pain shot through his torso, and Clint just wanted to go back to sleep. Phil wasn’t having it. “Come on, Clint. Bathroom.”

He pulled Clint to his feet and dragged him the few steps to the bathroom, where he’d already run a tepid bath. He leaned over and pulled Clint’s pants and underwear off, and distantly Clint thought he was missing an opportunity here, but before he could string that thought together he was in the tub, Phil helping him sit.

Shivers wracked Clint’s whole body, and he groaned. “Phil. . . fuck, Phil.”

“I know it hurts. Just ride it out, okay? You’ll warm up here in a few minutes,” Phil said, and he held Clint steady and added more hot water after a minute.

Clint thought he was going to shake apart, but Phil was right, and a few minutes later, after Phil drained some water and added more hot water a few times he felt a little better. His teeth were still chattering, though, so he just looked up at Phil, who nodded.

“We need you out of there.” He pulled Clint out of the tub, dried him off quickly, and shuffled him into clean sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirt before guiding him to the bedroom.

It took more effort than usual to get enough breath for it, but he finally whispered, “Did I get shot?”

“Four to the Kevlar sent you into the river,” Phil said, looking down at Clint’s torso. “The bruising is already bad.” He paused, searching Clint’s face for something, and added, “How are you feeling?”

Clint reached for Phil’s hand, and closed his eyes at the warmth of it, the grounding that washed through his chest at the feel of it. “I’m still cold,” he said.

Phil brushed his other hand through Clint’s damp hair. “Give me a minute to get dry, okay?”

Clint nodded, and Phil was gone. Clint wanted to pass out, but every time he started to relax, a shiver would snake back through his body and he’d startle awake again. Finally, Phil crawled into the bed with him and pressed his body to Clint’s. He was so warm. Clint groaned in contentment. “That’s better,” he mumbled into Phil’s arm.

Phil stroked his cheek and Clint opened his eyes to look at him. His eyes were filled with concern and adoration, and Clint was overwhelmed.

“Wish we were home,” he said, and he tried to grasp Phil’s hand. He was too tired, though, and Phil had to maneuver their bodies so they could hold hands comfortably.

Phil was quiet for a minute, and then said, “Just sleep. Extraction tomorrow and then you can go back to the apartment.”

Somehow Clint caught the mistake, even through his haze. “Our apartment,” he mumbled. “’s yours too.”

Phil didn’t answer, just squeezed Clint’s hand and held it until Clint drifted off.

The next day was a blur to Clint. Back at base, Phil hovered while the doctors checked his blood pressure five times over the course of five hours and put him through two EKG tests to make sure his dip in the icy water hadn’t affected his heart. He brought Clint food and avoided his gaze and made sure the paperwork for Clint’s release was done and ready as soon as the tests were finished.

Clint fell asleep on the drive home, but Phil was there to help him up the steps to the lobby and into the elevator. When they got to the apartment and Clint saw the hanging plants over the kitchen breakfast bar, the bookshelves filled with Phil’s lifelong collection of dime novels, and the yellow afghan Phil’s grandma had given him thrown over the back of the couch, he sighed.

“What?” Phil asked as he helped Clint sit down on the couch.

Clint thought about their fight before they left, and about Phil’s statement about ‘the’ apartment while they were on the mission. He thought about how crappy he’d been to Phil over the last few weeks, and he looked around the place again with a smile. “This is our place, you know,” he said, looking up at Phil, who narrowed his eyes and swallowed. Clint went on. “I mean, you should know that I’m not doing a great job of adjusting to living with someone,” and Phil huffed an exasperated breath at that, “But it’s not you.”

Phil was quiet for a moment, and then sat down next to Clint. He stared at the bookshelf across the room. “I wasn’t sure.”

Clint pulled Phil’s hand into his and rubbed the back of it gently. “It’s not. And I know it’s not a real excuse, but I haven’t shared space with anyone since me and Barney had to share rooms with ten other boys when I was eight. In the circus we slept in different places every night because we were punk kids who didn’t deserve our own space, and even when I was a headliner they were on tough times, so I just crashed with different people every few nights. After all that, I was alone. You’re the first person I’ve chosen to live with, Phil.” He leaned in and kissed Phil’s cheek. “But I did choose to live with you, and I don’t regret it.”

Phil looked over at Clint and met his gaze. “It seems like you do.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I mean, I do understand why, but it seems like you’d be happier on your own.”

“More comfortable,” Clint said, staring into Phil’s blue eyes that he loved so much. They held something no one had ever given Clint before – complete adoration and trust. It was heady.

“What?” Phil asked.

“I’d be more comfortable on my own. But that’s not what I really want. I just have to learn to be comfortable with you. What I want is to figure out how to do that.” He leaned in again and kissed Phil on the lips this time. “If you’ll help me.”

Phil leaned back, away from Clint and nodded, but something in his face made Clint sit back, too, waiting. “I want to help you,” Phil said, “And I know I’ve got more experience than you, but it’s not just on me, okay?”

Clint wasn’t sure what to say.

Phil nodded, like he was realizing something. “You have to talk to me. You can’t lie about what you need, Clint. You just – it’s not fair to me. If you need to have time to yourself, just tell me.”

“But-“ Clint began. This was new. You didn’t tell the person you were making the center of your universe that you didn’t want them around. Right?

“Clint,” Phil said. “You tell me. That’s how it works. And if I need my space I have to tell you, too. And I will, and it won’t mean that I don’t love you or want you at all; it’ll just mean that I need space. Okay?”

Clint thought about it for a second and sighed as he finally got it. “You’re sharing my universe, right?”

“What?”

Clint grinned. “It’s not about making you the center of my universe or me the center of yours. It’s about sharing our universes, and sometimes that means stepping away from each other for a bit, right?”

Phil grinned, too, and leaned back in for a longer, deeper kiss. “I’m no expert, but that sounds about right to me.”

“I can do that,” Clint replied after a moment, and he leaned into Phil, let Phil wrap him in his warm embrace, and kiss him until all the cold washed away.


End file.
